New York City One Shots

“That is just completely crazy.” Stephanie put down her cup of coffee and stared at me. “Why are you leaving for New York? Because a guy told you to?”
“To be honest,” I set my tea down and smiled up at her, “yes, that’s exactly why.”
“You haven’t even texted or called him since the last time you saw him.” Steph added a little more sugar to her coffee. “Look I know you didn’t go to college, major in Linguistics, and become fluent in 3 languages all to chase some guy.”
“Sounds like the perfect plan to me.” I shook my head coaxing her to see the illogical side of her argument.
“And you don’t even know if he meant it.”
I sipped my tea again, telling myself not to roll my eyes. “You need better friends,” my inner self spoke without shame. I sighed and continued to nod along. “You’re right Steph. I’m totally not going.”
She looked up from the salad she was munching on. “You’re full of shit. You’re totally going.”
I nodded along with a charming smile on my face, “You know me so well.”

I left the terminal groggy and tired. There was a part of me, despite the jetlag, that wanted to see how all of this would end and be there for every moment in between the present and until then.
I closed my eyes as the taxi driver pulled out of the parking spot, casually looking at me through the reflection of his rear-view mirror. “Hey, if you pass out I am calling the cops.”
My eyes popped open in a matter of seconds, “Trust me, sir. I’m not on anything. Just hoping for things to go my way today.”
He shook his head, “We go exactly to the place you wanted. That’s it.”
I nodded my head, holding the piece of receipt paper in my hand. I read the numbers again to myself, just in case anything happened. I had no problem figuring out where to go as soon as I got some food. I heard the pizza was the best, so I googled the nearest pizza place. About half an hour into the ride, I get the urge to send Sebastian a text. “Hey, remember that girl that worked at that one gas station?” I typed, “well she decided to leave for New York. When can we meet?”
The driver pulled into a spot across the street of the pizzeria. I smiled at him and handed him his fare as I stuffed my phone into my pocket.
As the taxi drove off, I stepped off the curb and jay-walked over to the entrance of the pizzeria. As I got to the door, I realized that my purse was missing. I lowered my head after I realized where I had forgotten it. I took in a sigh and walked into the pizza place, holding out the only $20 bill I had. “One slice, please. And some Italian ice too.”
~~~
“Listen to me,” the young Italian in front of me said as he chewed down on another slice of pizza. “Your best bet is to go to the station. They can call most of the taxi companies around and help put the word out.”
I shook my head and furrowed down my brow. Trying to wash the guilt down with a sip of cola, I spoke “What if they can’t help? That seems like a big task for a small purse.”
He chuckled, “hey, are you the woman who belongs to that purse?”
“Uh, yea,” I hesitated.
“And that purse belongs to you, right?”
“It’s been established.”
“Go and get it. There’s no reason you should wait.”
I smiled as his logic spoke to my soul. “You know,” I said as I pushed myself out of my chair, “Joey Tribbiani ain’t got nothing on you.”
He laughed as he gestured a swell good bye.
I was coincidentally a couple blocks away from the nearest station. I kept up with the pace of the crowd, walking beside people, watching out for obstacles, and darting around those who walked too slow. I still surveyed the buildings I was walking by, making sure to mind map everything out. I smiled as I saw the hotel I’d be staying at across the street. Maybe no one could really get lost in a city this big.
I tossed aside my pride, I walked into the sheriff station and was stopped abruptly. There were five cops surrounding two people. One of the cops in between the two men pushed them apart. “Fellas, not here. This is probably the worst place to do this.”
“Tell him to stop following me or I’m pressing charges,” I heard a familiar voice.
“I wasn’t following you.” The young boy with a camera hanging around his neck shrugged, playing innocence.
“Please, you cut me off on the freeway and almost caused a pile up.”
“Fellas,” another cop tried to diffuse the situation.
“Look,” his voice grew hoarse and aggressive. “If I ever see you following me again—”
“Don’t worry—” the paparazzo said, throwing his hands up into the air, “a picture of you is not worth getting arrested for.” Strolling out the door, he pushed me off to the side out of his way.
The five cops in the room gave me a silent gesture, apologizing for the delay in service.
I shrugged back, “So any of you guys wanna help me find a purse?”
The officers chuckled as they started to disperse back into their original jobs. As the last officer moved out of my way, I saw Sebastian staring at me.
My mouth dropped, “What are you doing in here?”
He rolled his eyes, “it’s a long story—how, when did you get into the city?”
Not knowing the exact time, I shrugged, “I texted you when I was in the cab.”
He smiled, while holding eye contact and he searched his pocket for his phone. I tried not to let my eyes wander. “I see it—I see your text. My phone must’ve gone off, I just didn’t hear it.”
“It’s okay,” I smiled bravely, “you can make it up to me.”